


Reunited and It Feels so Good

by anarchycox



Series: The Beast and the Bard [5]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Geralt POV, M/M, Public Sex, Reunions, bit of sex, some voyeurism, trust in your partner, ugly geralt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:26:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24772354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchycox/pseuds/anarchycox
Summary: A year into their romantic relationship, monstrous Geralt and Jaskier spend a month apart. Geralt decides to get all gussied up for their reunion. Jaskier doesn't want romance, he just wants his monster.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The Beast and the Bard [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1699132
Comments: 102
Kudos: 679





	Reunited and It Feels so Good

Geralt stared at the alderman in confusion. “You aren’t going to complain or try to haggle?”

The alderman seemed equally confused, “You performed the job. Clearly,” he gave a brief glance to the heads on the ground. “More than it seems?”

“Large nest,” Geralt explained. “More than anticipated.”

“Then we owe you more,” the man unlocked a box, and added a good bit more to the purse on the desk. “That should compensate you adequately.”

Geralt turned to check if Jaskier was behind him making a death glare, that usually got the above and beyond money, but he was still in Novigrad at the bard whatever it was that had separated them for the last month. He looked back to the alderman. “My thanks,” he slowly reached for the coin purse. 

“I would just ask?” the man cleared his throat.

There it was, “Yes?”

“My children want to meet you, they’ve heard Master Bard Jaskier’s songs about you, and well when I mentioned you had taken the contract, they were very excited.” The alderman smiled at him. “Just a brief introduction?”

Geralt picked up the severed heads that he had brought with him. “Do they want a souvenir?”

“I think meeting you will suffice,” the alderman’s smile dimmed a little.

“If you boil the skin and muscle off, fleder skulls have really neat ridges, look really neat on a shelf, put a candle in and -”

“Yes, thank you, I’ll just have a servant dispose of them,” the man said swiftly. Geralt just shrugged, his loss, the skulls looked great. Geralt followed him out of the office and through a few streets until he was at a nice but not lavish house, clearly not a man who was lining his own pockets. He was almost impressed and humans seldom impressed him.

His bard impressed him, but from what he could tell Jaskier was unique on the whole of the continent. And he had been without that uniqueness for almost a month. And since they had become whatever they were a year ago, they hadn’t been apart this long. He wondered if Jaskier was missing him, as much as he missed his bard. He figured probably not, a big music festival, he’d be busy working, playing, flirting. Enjoying everything a city had to offer. It made Geralt realize he probably should not meet up looking quite like he did right now. Hmm, he’d sort that later, right now he could hear running footsteps and soon two boys and a little girl were staring up at him.

Children were so fucking tiny. “I wanted to bring you severed heads,” he told them. 

The alderman just sighed, “My loves, this is Geralt of Rivia, from the songs. Just like Papa promised.”

“Did you save our village?” the little girl asked.

“I mean many of you will die of starvation or plague in the winter, but the monsters that were stalking you are well gone,” Geralt said. He looked down at her. “And your father seems like a better human than most, which means you are likely to do better than most.” She was so far down, barely coming up to his knee, and he decided to crouch. “Do you want to see the sword I used to kill monsters?”

She nodded in awe and the boys were shouting in joy as well. He showed them the silver sword, his medallion and answered the boys’s many questions. When the girl reached up, he stayed very still when she touched his fangs. “Do you eat monsters with them?”

“Sometimes if they are the only weapon I have left,” he said softly. “But not very often. I prefer apples.”

“I like apples,” she agreed. “Mama makes me applesauce.”

“That is a wonderful treat.”

“I’ll get you some!” the girl ran off, and the boys asked a few grislier questions and he started to answer but a look from the alderman had him couching his answers. He stood up a bit and the girl came back with a jar and he accepted it. 

“My thanks,” he told her solemnly. “I have to go collect my bard now.”

“You are always welcome in the village,” the alderman held out his hand, and it took Geralt a moment to realize he was supposed to shake. He was very careful to not squeeze too hard, break any bones.

He left and collected Roach, headed north east towards Novigrad. To his bard. He found himself humming Jaskier’s songs as he went, and one came to his mind about a lover’s reunion. It was a hugely popular song and Jaskier always sang it with passion. They had been parted before but not as lovers. Which fuck, did that mean when they got back together, things were supposed to be different. 

Geralt passed a wagon, moved to give them more space, even nodded politely. There were screams of fear and they tried to ward against him. He didn’t react, this was the norm, not the alderman and his family. He pulled the jar of applesauce from a saddlebag and dipped a finger in. It was nice. Tart, not too sweet. He ate the jar as he rode and thought about that song Jaskier sang, tried to remember the words.

There was best clothes on, perfumed and hair all silken. Geralt looked at himself, the clothes weren’t bad, only a half dozen patches. Perfume was not happening because the smell was too much for Geralt, but he could stop at a bathhouse, clean up, and shave, perhaps a hair cut. With the money he had been given, even a new shirt. He was not writing Jaskier a poem.

But a nice dinner, a room in a nice and proper inn. Candles. Romance liked candles that weren’t just tallow. It would add up to a fair bit, but it would make Jaskier happy, especially with a month of city life, he bet Jaskier secretly hoped for that sort of thing but would never say. Geralt nodded to himself. He had this in hand. It was late when he arrived at Novigrad, just late enough the gates had closed to the city and meditated in the trees until morning. When he went into the city, he tried to remember where everything was, and had to wander a bit, the map in his head was a couple decades old. 

He found a good stable for Roach and at their direction ended up at a barber’s that had good baths. He paid for hot water, a shave and a cut. The bath was almost big enough for him and he tipped generously that the person getting the water ready didn’t puke at the sight of Geralt just in a towel. It was a good bath and he scrubbed his skin hard. He put on the clean clothes from his pack, but they were worn thin. And the songs said to look your best. A new shirt was certainly in order. He went downstairs and sat in a barber’s chair.

The man flinched but his hands were steady, good enough. “I’m meeting my love for the first time in a month, and I need to look my best.” 

“Whore’s care about how your gold looks, not your face,” the man said.

Geralt smiled and he knew the fangs shone. “I think he’ll like the beard so a trim there and just clean up the hair.”

The barber nodded and cleaned up the beard, cut his hair. But he paused. “Sir, you have something growing in your hair at the bottom, it needs to be cut away.”

“I am keeping the long hair,” Geralt growled. It let him hide his face a bit, he needed it. And Jaskier liked playing with it. “It stays.”

“Most of it yes, but I am fairly certain your ‘love’ doesn’t want what is under here.”

“Fine,” Geralt said. He watched carefully but the barber only took a few inches off the bottom, at a length similar to his beard, and then he pulled the rest back into a ponytail. “Fuck.”

“It suits you, if I may.” The barber sounded rather surprised.

But so was Geralt, if he was honest. “Where can I find new clothes?” he asked.

“To fit you, doubtful there will be anyone who will have such,” The man began then paused. “There is an elf in the shanties on the other side of the gate.” Geralt was given a name and a location and when he went he couldn’t understand why the barber had sounded so dismissive of the elf, he was a decent sort. He didn’t have a new shirt that would fit Geralt but he had a waistcoat. 

“It would almost fit you and I can make it look amazing in about an hour.” The man gestured to a chair. “Will that hold your weight?”

“I’m fine leaning,” Geralt said because the chair looked a little fragile. He leaned against the wall and looked around. He thought it was nice work. A bunch of it was flashy, and his eye kept going to a very sheer chemise with pretty lace work. He was picturing it on Jaskier. “Would that fit a man built like this?” He held his hands up.

“Built like a goose?” the elf was tearing seams open.

“Did you go to the bard thing that was happening?”

“I did, amazing music. The woman declared the queen, she was just amazing.”

“Jaskier didn’t win?”

“No!” The elf was beaming. “Oh, it was so romantic, the competition night was down to the two of them and they were both playing and everyone was sure he would win, because well Jaskier, and coming in second for this new young woman would have been an incredible honour. But she sang this song and he stood up gave her a bow, kissed her hand and said that he was honoured to come in second place to her. And if Master Bard Jaskier says something like that the judges aren’t going to fuss. She came in first and kissed Jaskier on the stage, this huge bold claim. Everyone was swooning, they disappeared together for the rest of the night. And well, everyone knows Jaskier’s reputation.”

“Would that chemise fit Jaskier?”

“A man Jaskier sized? It would.” The elf was now putting laces into the back of the waistcoat. “Why?”

“Not a man sized like him. Him. I want to buy that as a gift for Jaskier.” Geralt smiled, couldn’t stop the bit of drool when he smiled. “What?”

“That is…very sweet that you want to leave a tribute for Jaskier but…well, a lot of people want to impress the master bard.”

“Oh I know I impress him. Half his songs are about me.”

The elf blinked. “You’re the white wolf. Fuck me, the actual white wolf in my shop.” The elf paled. “And I just told you that your bard was fucking around. Oh fuck.”

Geralt just laughed. “She human?”

“Yes, and I am sorry but beautiful.”

Geralt shook his head. “Then I’m not worried. How much for the chemise?”

They settled on a price for everything and the elf slid the waistcoat onto Geralt’s shoulders. He was tall and he still had to stand on a step stool to do so. He tightened the laces at the back and it sort of felt like thin armor. “Since you seem to be in the know, where would I find Jaskier?”

“The rumour is that he was sneaking away whenever he could off to The Rosemary and Thyme,” he offered. He wrapped up the chemise. “And if well, things go poorly, I have a spare cot?”

“You are very kind,” Geralt replied and headed out. He ended up taking a wrong street and a little boy was crying. “Shit, are you alright? Where are your parents?” The boy ran and Geralt followed wanting him to be fine. It was a trap to a dead end with a few thieves and the boy laughed at him. “I just got cleaned up, and I am not in the mood,” he warned them.

“Fuck we just wanted to rob you, but a thing that ugly, we be doing the world a service killing you.”

“Wait, aren’t you -” another began.

Geralt blasted them with the hardest aard he could manage and threw a dagger into the throat of the one who wasn’t knocked out. “Can’t get the new clothes dirty.” He walked away, finally turning the correct corner and finding the inn the elf had said. He used the word inn, loosely because he could see what was going on in a couple windows and smell the sex pouring out of the place. Seemed he was finding his love in a brothel. Geralt walked in and looked around the room. He couldn’t see Jaskier but he could smell him. He went to the bar and the woman working paled a bit at the sight of him. “Jaskier around?”

“He was but…” she glanced at the stairs. “He went up a bit ago.”

“Thank you,” Geralt headed up the stairs, which groaned under his weight. He was pretty sure he was supposed to read a poem or serenade after being away so long. Instead he just stood in a hall and let out a low growl that reverberated against the walls. A door flung open and he had to brace himself as Jaskier hurled himself into Geralt’s arms. “Hello,” Geralt said. He let out a happy chirrup as Jaskier sank his teeth into Geralt’s throat. “Miss me?”

“Fuck, you hideous creature, so fucking much.” Jaskier kept kissing and biting. “A month without my monster, we are never doing that again. Room. We need a room.”

“You came from a room, without a shirt on,” Geralt pointed out. He easily walked with Jaskier in his arms back to the room, where there was a beautiful woman, wearing barely anything. “Hello,” he said.

She didn’t look up from what she was writing. “Uh-huh,” she said.

“Not what it looks like?” Jaskier offered.

“Looks like this was the only place you could be left alone to write music and the ventilation is shit in here and you always tend to strip down when working on new songs. So less clothing.”

The woman looked up at him. “You don’t think he was fucking me? Everyone was thinking that, and I was worried, but he said you’d know better.”

“You are too pretty,” Geralt said, confident in his bard’s affection.

“Thank you, my monster. Knew you would understand and holy fucking hell, what did you do to yourself?”

“You sing about reunions, I did what the songs say.”

“How did you grow a beard like that in a damn month?”

“Regen potions help it grow,” he explained. “You don’t like?”

“And the short underneath?”

“Something was growing in it.”

“Usually is, I just ignore it.” Jaskier was stroking the beard. “Can I ride your face?”

“You let those fangs near your arse?” she sounded impressed. “Fuck, you are as insane as they said.”

“He only gets that if he has been very good,” Geralt said. He was still holding his bard up. “I’m supposed to romance you now.”

“Geralt, I made a very big mistake.”

“You usually do,” Geralt moved, pressed him against a wall. “Will I have to punish you?”

Jaskier groaned and Geralt had to bite him because the sound was just so perfect, and he wanted more of it. He sank his teeth into the spot on Jaskier’s shoulder that he always did, renewing the marks that had faded with a month apart. “Fuck, you ugly bastard, do more of that.” Geralt happily obliged. He had honestly forgotten the woman in the room the minute he had the taste of Jaskier’s flesh in his mouth. “Should have never done this competition. Rules. Strict rules.”

“Oh no, the horror, actually expecting you to attend to your craft?” Geralt said when he stopped biting. “You drop a chord progression?” He saw that he had distracted Jaskier with his knowing a phrase like that. He pressed a hand to Jaskier’s cock, which was hard and the man moaned.

“It was a challenge of your morality as well as your musicality,” the woman said. “There was no drinking, smoking, swearing, fighting, or fucking. A chance to show the world that bards were not their reputations, that we were about the music first and foremost.”

Geralt almost dropped Jaskier in his laughing at him. “Are you serious? For a month?” His bard looked so miserable. “Oh, my silly little bard, how much you have been suffering.”

“I haven’t even wanked, Geralt, my balls are killing me,” Jaskier whined. “Someone was always around. Until the last night when I clued in and conceded to Priscilla there. People bought my romantic bullshit, like I could ever fuck a woman with perfect skin like her anymore,” he dismissed. “We sneaked away here, because now that the competition part is over, we are supposed to be involved in the exhibition, and I couldn’t take it! We’ve been coming here when we could, their shit ale tasted like perfection. Got high, wrote some songs, been wonderful. Except for the aching balls.” 

Geralt looked at the puppy eyes that Jaskier was giving him and ground his hand down on Jaskier’s cock. “Better?” he asked.

“Not yet, more,” Jaskier begged. 

“Your new friend is watching,” Geralt pointed out. They had been caught before, because Jaskier was a horny bastard and Geralt always indulged him, but this was different. This was actively choosing to fuck in front of someone. 

“Don’t mind me,” she said. She went back to working.

“Don’t mind her, get me off you fucking monster,” Jaskier demanded. Geralt slapped his ass and Jaskier begged for more. A couple more swats and a few strokes over his trousers and Jaskier was ruining them. He slumped against Geralt. “I missed you, my beloved creature, so fucking much.”

“I missed you too. Bought you a slutty top, bet you’ll look pretty.” Geralt stroked his hair and back. “Month is too fucking long, now that we are fucking.”

“I agree.” Jaskier nuzzled against him. “Need my monster.”

“Need my bard. Need my bard right now.” Geralt looked over at the woman. “Ummm, you could leave?”

“I paid for the goddamn room, you can leave, or you can fuck on the bed there while I work. I don’t really care.” She had a leg up and was writing. 

“Jaskier?”

“Other room,” Jaskier said. “Only I get to see your fantastic cock.” He gestured vaguely. “Across will be empty.”

“Nice to meet you,” Geralt told the woman. He went across the hall and the room was indeed empty. He dropped Jaskier on the bed and looked down at him. “You are fucking gorgeous,” he whispered.

“You are vile,” Jaskier replied and leaned back on the bed. “Where’s the slutty top you bought me?” Geralt hurried back into the hall was relieved the package was where he dropped it. He brought it to Jaskier and Jaskier opened it, put the top on. “Ooooh, feel this, so good.”

It was thin and sheer and Geralt could see his nipples, all that chest hair through it. Fuck, he couldn’t stop the growl deep in his throat. “Supposed to be romantic aren’t I?”

“Geralt, I went a month without my monster. I want you to turn me over and fuck me so hard you have to carry me out of Novigrad because my legs barely work. I want you to ruin me, come me in come and teeth marks. Every little thought you’ve had that you’ve worried might be a little too gross? You can absolutely do all of them to me, right now. Because I have been forced to be a good boy for a bloody month, because once I entered I couldn’t leave without losing face. Week two I almost cracked, but I didn’t. Because well, didn’t know where to find you.” Geralt watched him start to stroke himself. “Geralt, I don’t even smell like you anymore.” He was pouting. 

Geralt lay down on top of him, caged him. “Well we should fix that,” he purred and began to nuzzle and lick at Jaskier. “Supposed to be rose petals on the bed. You sing that.”

“All that needs to be on this bed is us,” Jaskier said. “You do look really nice for someone so disgusting. I like the hair.”

“Me too,” Geralt agreed. He smiled and his drool dropped onto Jaskier’s mouth; he watched Jaskier hungrily lick it away. “Going to make you scream.”

“You better.”

“How did anyone actually believe you’d be fucking a pretty woman like her?”

“Not a clue, if they listened to a single of my songs, they’d know.” Jaskier arched up against him. “Less talking, more wrecking.”

“Monster fucker,” Geralt teased.

“My monster,” Jaskier replied.

They smiled at each other in complete accord and a couple hours later were kicked out of the tavern/brothel for making too much noise. Priscilla waved them off and they headed, Jaskier wearing the new shirt brazenly, as they left Novigrad. Geralt got blood on his new waistcoat within a few hours of leaving because of some rabid wolves, and he took Jaskier against a tree, because Jaskier got all hungry for seeing his monster bloodied up.

When they camped they fucked again, Jaskier making so much noise they couldn’t catch dinner after, all the animals scared away. “Missed you,” Jaskier said quietly.

“Missed you as well.”

“Competitions are overrated, I know I’m the best, rather just wander with you.”

Geralt smiled, understanding what Jaskier was giving up by not entering these competitions. They brought in money and status and he was giving that up for whatever it was they were. “Do you know, an alderman wouldn’t let me give his children severed heads?”

“Were they nice heads?”

“They were!”

“That was just wrong then,” Jaskier said. “You give wonderful gifts.” He was still wearing the shirt Geralt had given him. “Tell me about your month.”

“Boring, you weren’t there.”

“Tell me anyways.”

And Geralt did.  



End file.
